Reporting from the Front Lines
by J.S. Fortner
Summary: Journalist Johannes Volker had it made, until he was assigned to the front lines of Harikas. Now, he and his cameraman are just trying to survive the Ork invasion. Chapter 2 up, if you read, please review, good or bad.
1. Chapter 1

Reporting from the Front Lines

A Warhammer 40,000 Fan Fiction by Jerrod Fortner

"Darlene could you apply a little more powder to my nose? Oh, and John, where is that combat helmet I asked for? I can't go out there without taking care of this precious head of hair, now can I? Let's hurry people, those cameras roll in ten minutes! For the Emperor's sake, where is my water? Am I the only one who works around here?"

Johannes Volker smiled at himself in the mirror, marveling at his set of pearly white teeth. His hair was combed to perfection, and his makeup girl was applying the last bit of powder to his flawlessly straight nose. He was the pride and joy of broadcasting station delta, their man on the scene. This was his first battle report though, and for all his talk and bossy ways, he was nervous.

"Darlene, once again, a fantastic job."

Darlene, a buxom blonde with aqua blue eyes, smiled and blushed until her faced matched her cherry red lipstick.

"Thanks Mr. Volker. You know, once you finish this report, maybe we could go and grab some caffeine from the Rations tent?" She flashed him a sultry grin and giggled, then turned away, swishing her ample buttocks and leaving Johannes with his mouth ajar.

"Mr. Volker sir, if you're ready, we need to get out to the filming area."

The voice of Dirk the cameraman brought Johannes back to reality, and he stood and cleared his throat before replying, "Of course, let's get going."

As they made their way out, Johannes grabbed his helmet and flak vest before stepping outside. He quickly donned the equipment and made his way to the front lines, where he met with several guardsmen and shook their hands. All of them were fans, and he smiled as he realized the fame he would be getting for all this.

_They'll make me an anchor before too long. I'm so sick of doing all this field journalism. Emperor's blood, I'm a damned celebrity!_

He cleared his throat as Dirk quickly attached a vox-bead on the collar of his shirt, and then he tested it. Dirk flashed him a thumbs up and said, "Alright, Mr. Volker, we're all set. We're gonna be live in ten nine eight…"

Johannes emptied his mind of everything but the report as Dirk counted down the seconds. He inhaled deeply as Dirk held up three fingers, released at two and inhaled again at one. Then he was live.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Johannes Volker reporting to you live from the front lines of the planet Harikas. Behind me are the mighty warriors and vehicles of the Fifth Harikas Hessians. Already there have been reports of fighting in the outlying regions of the main hive city, Casses Hive. We are currently just outside the city, and you can hear the sound of cannon fire in the distance as the green skinned enemy draws closer."

Johannes ducked down as a Basilisk less than a hundred feet away fired its massive cannon. He saw the crew loading another shell, and he quickly focused his attention back on the camera.

"Apparently the enemy is much closer than anticipated. That sound was a Basilisk mortar tank, a very powerful weapon, one of the true symbols of the Emperor's might."

Las fire from behind Johannes made him turn around and he felt genuine fear.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the green skins are within range of the basic troopers' weapons. This situation is very bad, I can hear the sounds of the enemy's machinery coming, and it is my opinion that I should get out of here before-"

Before Johannes could finish, a Hell Hound rolled up and unleashed a great tongue of flame that illuminated the frontlines. Johannes gasped as he turned around and saw thousands of hulking, bestial monstrosities climbing over concrete dividers and lowering themselves into the trenches. He could hear their animal roars of joy and rage, mixed in with the dying screams of Hessian Guardsmen and the bellowing shouts of Commissars rallying their troops. Johannes felt something warm and wet running down his leg, and for a split second, he thought he had been shot. He looked down to check on himself, but noticed it was merely his own urine, which now puddled around his commandeered combat boots.

He swallowed what little spit he had left and said into the camera, "Reporting from the front lines, this has been Johannes Volker. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen."

Johannes turned around and began running back to the news tent, Dirk struggling to keep up, weighted down with equipment as he was. Johannes smiled when he saw the tent, and he doubled his efforts to reach it. Fifty feet away from the tent, he tripped and fell headfirst into the ground, turned into mud by the recent rains. He stood and wiped the mud from his eyes, then saw Dirk's hand extended to help him up. He stood and smiled at Dirk. From somewhere in the corner of his mind, he remembered something from his time among the troopers of the Fifth Hessians: always stay down. This dimly registered as he heard a loud crack, and then a bullet slammed into his combat helmet, knocking him lifelessly to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

When Johannes woke up, his first thought about his crippling headache was that he'd had too much to drink and picked up a loose woman. When he looked around and saw that there was no one beside him, he still didn't feel better. Beside him was a dented las rifle, a bag full of ammunition and survival supplies, and a scratched up camera. Johannes groaned as a high pitched trill sent daggers of pain through his skull. He looked around and saw Dirk, who was whistling as he carried a chunk of some kind of meat towards him. Dirk smiled when he saw that Johannes was awake, and he whistled even louder.

"For the love of the Emperor, man, quit that damn whistling! It's like the continents clashing together!"

Dirk stopped mid whistle and trudged over to Johannes, then placed the meat on the ground and proceeded to collect flammable materials from the bag. When he had collected what he needed, Dirk took the bayonet off the end of the las rifle, skewered the meat on it, and set it on a makeshift spit, slowly rotating it as it cooked.

"Well Mr. Volker, we're in some kind of mess now. Those Orks didn't really care about us. They just walked right by. Might have been though that you were out cold and I played dead."

Johannes winced as he saw light spearing through the tops of the trees surrounding them.

"How long was I out?"

Dirk chewed on his upper lip for a few seconds as he thought, and then he answered, "Well sir, as close as I can guess, about twelve hours. That bullet hit pretty hard. Tore the helmet right off of your head. Good thing John got it for you, eh?"

Dirk continued to talk for another five minutes, until Johannes felt like his head was about to explode. He stood up quietly, reached down and retrieved the las rifle, then slowly approached Dirk. Dirk looked up, puzzlement furrowing his brow.

"Uh, Mr. Volker, what are you doing?"

Johannes laughed grimly and replied, "I'm going to kill you, Dirk. I'm going to beat you to death with this rifle, and then I'm going to bury you. And after that, I'm going to eat that nice little meal you've prepared, and then I'm going to sleep off this headache!"

Dirk scrambled to his feet as Johannes rushed at him, wildly swinging the rifle around. Dirk broke down into a boxer's stance and said, "Don't do this Mr. Volker!"

Johannes ignored him and screamed maniacally, only to be knocked on his back by a powerful right hook. Johannes' vision swam as Dirk stood over him, and Johannes said, "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

"Five years in the Guard will teach you a few things, Mr. Volker."

Johannes nodded and regretted the decision to attack an ex-guardsman, mere seconds before he passed out again.


End file.
